


A Kiss, As Dagon Rages

by KanraTheTeddyB3ar



Series: Lokaal Unahzaal [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: F/M, this is just a little something I did
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 14:33:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15974318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KanraTheTeddyB3ar/pseuds/KanraTheTeddyB3ar
Summary: Outside the Temple of the One, Dagon and his hordes rage. Inside, Martin and Annette say a final farewell.





	A Kiss, As Dagon Rages

**Author's Note:**

> This is a pairing that's near to me, since I headcanon Annette as the great grandmother of one of my first Dragonborn characters. And it's been a while since I updated my Love Unending series, so here go!
> 
> Also, I realized re-reading this, that there's no real end. It just... ends. Which, honestly, is rather fitting for these two.

The temple was cold. I remember that most of all. So uncharacteristically cold. A drastic change from outside, where Dagon and his hordes of Daedra raged. By contrast, Martin was warm. He looked so gallant, so regal, in robes befitting an Emperor. A true Septim, despite his bastard origins. 

“I do what I must do,” He says, without an ounce of preamble. “I cannot stay to rebuild Tamriel. That task falls to others.”

The look he gave me still chills my blood. Such a wrenching clarity, such cruel understanding. He was going to die. Die, that Tamriel itself might live. And I’m not sure that I’d be able to stand the heartache long after. I loved him. I still love him. No one had approved, no matter what standing I had gained with the people.

I had kissed him, to silence what words would come next. Or maybe he kissed me? I’m still not sure who initiated. I just remember the pain. We were saying a final farewell, but wouldn’t say it aloud. Couldn’t say it, because saying it would make it real.

Everyone knows what happened next. How Martin ran to the center of the Temple of the One, smashing the amulet as the roof caved in, and Dagon entered. The blinding white light from his transformation, ushering in a dragon made of pure flame. The colossal battle that ended with Dagon’s defeat.

I don’t remember much after. Just the screams of “MARTIN!” leaving my throat until no sound was left. Until I clawed and crawled for each breath, in too slowly and out too quickly, my body rattling like a leaf.

All that’s left of him are the memories in my heart. His hopes and dreams for the future. His hopes and dreams for us. The Champion of Cyrodiil has never been so hollow a title.


End file.
